


Can't Get More English Than Shakespeare

by continuinghappinesslist



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Period-Typical Sexism, Pre-Relationship, the diner is not a covert place for meetings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-15
Updated: 2015-01-15
Packaged: 2018-03-07 16:41:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3177238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/continuinghappinesslist/pseuds/continuinghappinesslist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peggy teaches Angie how to speak with an English accent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can't Get More English Than Shakespeare

Angie wasn’t stupid. She believed Peggy when she promised they weren’t sweethearts, but there was definitely something going on with her and the suited guy who always sat with his back to her and looked like he had a stick up his ass. English was getting better at not closing up and pushing away, but this was still something she dodged and avoided talking about. But something was definitely going on. If I was Peggy, she thought as she walked over to the pair of them, maybe I’d try and find out on my own. But she wasn’t, and it could wait til Peggy told her. 

"Sorry to interrupt your clandestine conversation, Cor blimey mate, tally ho! and all. But would either of you like a refill?" 

"Oh Lord," the man sighed, still resolutely facing away from Peggy. "A friend of yours?" His words were clearly meant for Peggy, even as he spoke them to the empty side of his booth.

Peggy turned to Angie and gave her one of those stomach flipping little looks (a small pause and smile which made Angie glance at her perfectly painted lips) before saying, “Yes, yes she is.”

Oh geez, it felt like the pie and liquor all over again, except it was kinda a good feeling, like the butterflies in her stomach were tossing up and not her-

"Hey," a man’s voice broke through the moment, and Angie heard the goddamn snap of fingers, "Hey sweetheart, don’t spend all day yapping with your friend, some of us need our refills."

Angie plastered on her well practiced fake smile,”I’ll just be over there if you need me, English, imagining drowning that ass in the coffee pot,” Angie winked at her before walking back behind the counter to fill the guy’s cup.

A moment later and Peggy was at the bar sitting at her usual stool.

"You’ve given Mr Jarvis over there quite a scare, I imagine he thought we were being astoundingly covert about the whole thing," there was a little tease in her voice. Mr Jarvis? So that was his name.

"Can’t I wanna join in your talks with Mr English?" Angie was frustrated with herself for saying it, it sounded so…so petty, like she was a kid wanting attention. And maybe she did want attention but-

"I’m afraid they’re rather boring, Angie. I’ve told you already, they aren’t the meeting of star crossed lovers, just an eccentricity of an old friend."

"Sure," Angie said as she leaned over to put the pot back on the side.

"He’s not even English," Peggy muttered to herself. She did that a lot, Angie had noticed, little asides and biting afterthoughts that she didn’t quite say out loud. Maybe it was an English thing? Strong upper lip and all that.

"Oh? He sure sounds it."

"Well yes, to be honest I wouldn’t have been able to guess he was a New Yorker of all things, but he spent some time in England and decided he liked the accent."

"I like the accent."

"But you are terrible at it," Peggy laughed, and Angie couldn’t help be pulled into it too. "I mean the sort of people who might say “‘Ello guv" and the type to go hunting and say "tally ho", I’m afraid are completely different."

"Really?"

"Yes. Here, you want to speak with an accent like mine?" Peggy leaned closed over the top of the bar, "Repeat after me, ‘You’."

"You."

"Sir"

"Si-sur"

"No, make it and a ‘er’ sound, ‘Ser’."

"Ser."

"Exactly! ‘Are a’."

"Are a?"

"Perfect, Angie. ‘You Sir are a leathern jerkin, crystal-button, not-pated, agate-ring, puke-stocking, caddis-garter arse.”

"Peggy!" Angie exclaimed, then paused, "Wait, hun, what does that mean?"

"You know I have no idea. It’s in Shakespeare though, and you can’t really get more English that that. Now go say it to the man over there who you haven’t got around to drowning in coffee."

**Author's Note:**

> So I haven't written fic in nine years, and this was just a quick one I wrote for a tumblr ask, but Cartinelli brings it out of me.
> 
> http://www.continuinghappinesslist.tumblr.com


End file.
